


Take me to the broken place

by Kyriadamorte



Series: Written post-TROS [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Check Chapter Notes, F/M, a collection of stories with varying levels of connection to each other, character questioning their own sanity, each story probably has its own rating and tags and warnings, mentally older Rey, mentally unstable Rey, weird force shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:35:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22021162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyriadamorte/pseuds/Kyriadamorte
Summary: There’s a certain sort of poetry that Rey is the same age that Ben was when he died when she decides to end the world.~A collection of time travel fics exploring the different ways Rey tries to fix things.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Written post-TROS [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1584385
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47





	Take me to the broken place

There’s a certain sort of poetry that Rey is the same age that Ben was when he died when she decides to end the world.

She’s not mad. She knows that’s what they say. Those who are left.

There aren’t many. Not from their original ragtag group, nor from the bright-eyed volunteers that came later. Well, bright-eyed once. No longer. Those lights have dimmed.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Cut the head of the monster and it’s supposed to die. Not just...split into smaller, wriggling, cornered monsters. 

Ending the Final Order had been swift, miraculous. Ending the First Order - really didn’t do well with the naming conventions with those two, did they? - had been long and bloody. And just when they thought it was finally over, just as they started laying the building blocks for something new, it all started falling apart beneath them. Alliances failed, rulers showed their true colors, greed rose and compassion failed and everything got...muddled. It breaks from within and it breaks from without and somehow they’re right back where they started except now she’s sometimes less sure they’re the good guys.

Poe is the first to go. This somehow surprises everyone and no one. He’d been living by the seat of his pants on borrowed time for ages, but the fact that his line of credit might someday run out seemed unfathomable. 

Lando and Chewie go together in the Falcon of all ships. It’s fitting and terrible and leaves Rey feeling like an abandoned child on Jakku all over again.

Kaydel leaves a larger hole than any of them are expecting and the guilt of that only adds to the pain. Quiet, but firm - a steady pillar of strength and support. And then she’s gone. And they are all of them adrift.

When Jannah goes it’s not just her, it’s all of them, all of those stolen children who’d only just started to live. It’s devastating not just in terms of numbers and Rey is reminded of all of the other stolen children they kill by the hundreds and thousands. All of the missed opportunities; they could have shown them another way. Waste, just so much  _ waste.  _

It’s Finn that breaks her. Two lost children clutching at each other from the day they met, the closest she’s ever felt to actual family that she can remember. Gone. She searches for him in the Force and she cannot find him. She does not know if it is the Force or herself to blame so she blames both.

There are more and more and each death cuts away at Rey, flays her to the bone.

Rose is when she becomes truly untethered. Soft, but firm, grounded but still holding on to the values they’re fighting for with both hands. Every time Rey becomes more of a weapon and less of a person, Rose is there to put her back together. There’s a feral, rabid thing inside her that she thought had died with Palpatine, but it’s back and it’s wild and only Rose can really tame it. When she’s executed on the banking planet of Gerai, it really is the beginning of the end.

None of those who are left can really contain her, not that many of them try. They’re all so young - was she ever that young? - and they’ve somewhat lost what they’re fighting for and they look to her for answers and they don’t realize she has none. So she goes to find them.

At least, that’s what she tells them. That’s what she tells  _ herself. _

Sometimes, it’s even a little bit true.

Maybe she just leaves to get away. Often, she goes to Tatooine, looking for answers, although why she looks there not even she could tell you. She calls out to Luke and Leia - not sure why she feels like she has to go _ there _ of all places to do it, but she does. Sometimes, she manages to keep it reasonable, but more often than not now it’s a snarling, resentful tirade. Sometimes, they respond. Sometimes, they do not. She could not tell you if it’s actually them in the Force or merely something her mind has conjured up. She’s not sure how much it matters either way.

She calls for Ben, too, but he never comes. He never has, not in the ten years since he passed. The chasm of his absence has become such a part of her that even her crumbling mind refuses to give him to her. Now, when she needs and wants him most.

Maybe she just leaves to die. She throws herself into danger with increasing reckless abandon. If she dies, maybe she can rest. Maybe someone else can try to fix this problem, try to heal the galaxy’s wound. Maybe if she could just give her life...if one woman’s life could be enough. Vader, Ben...their sacrifices had bought the galaxy time...maybe....

_ Death that brings new life. _

But Rey is cursed to outlive everything and everyone so she keeps coming back. 

She finds the temple on accident. Or at least the items inside it. She’s not even entirely sure what she’s going to find when she first sets out; scouting out old Force-wielder temples - Jedi, Sith, sometimes something other, something  _ older _ \- had just become something she does. At the very least, it feels and looks like she’s doing something. And - who knows - maybe if she surrounds herself with enough texts and magic objects a solution will present itself.

Ironically, that is, in fact, what happens to a certain extent.

She does not know the name of those who built this place. Words like “Sith” and “Jedi” feel small and childish when faced the twisting, shifting, indescribable, age-old power Rey can feel pulsing and flowing beneath her. It’s not towering or imposing like the Sith Temple. No, the presence she sense here would have mocked the bombastic spectacle of it all. True power has no need for such empty and frivolous pomp.

To call it a temple is not even quite right. To call it a cave is also incorrect. There is an opening, to be sure, and walls made of rock. But the rock is jagged, yet smooth, solid, yet somehow ever twisting and shifting in a vine-like path in and out and around itself. She steps inside and it’s like she can feel the walls bend and stretch and contract around her. There are pillars placed sporadically throughout the space in a way that makes no true architectural sense, from what Rey can tell. Spiraling around each column are jagged, geometric symbols. She’s not sure even Threepio would be able to decipher their meaning. Are they even truly language in the strictest sense? Or something...earlier.

She runs her finger along the grooves of one that looks a bit like a bird and a breeze whistles through the space, though it is far too deep for any real wind. She lets her mind blank and reaches out with her senses, trying to hear what this space wants to tell her. 

To do that, of course, she first has to quiet the cacophony of voices she carries within her now, the chorus that rises to the surface whenever she lets herself reach for more than the immediate power that she needs to accomplish her missions. They’d been comforting at first. Familiar faces - Leia and Luke - then those of strangers. The voices had gotten louder and they’d all been so  _ loud _ and wanted  _ so much _ and not even all the same things and they’d tugged and tugged and tugged until she’d begun to tear apart. Until she’d started to lose where she ended and their will began.

At first, Rey had told herself it was fine. They were Jedi, after all. They’re of The Light. And they are one with the Force so their will is the will of the Force. And she’s supposed to trust that, isn’t she?

Isn’t she?

But doubt creeps in in the form of every shadow of pain and loss. Every piece of her destiny that led to her being so desperately alone. That led to Ben being so desperately alone. It starts becoming harder to trust in those that let him die. That let him die, but helped  _ her _ live only to watch her fail and fail as the galaxy baptized itself in bloodshed once more. She also stops being entirely sure it’s just Jedi. Gentle words slip into hissed whispers and darkness starts to pull at her too and make its home in the far corners of her mind.

And then there is perhaps the worst option of all. Maybe it’s neither. Maybe it’s just her.

She cannot afford to consider that now.

_ Resist it, Rey! _

_ From a certain point of view- _

_ Leave - there are no answers here, only more questions. _

_ -the circle breaks- _

_ -sins of the Jedi- _

_ Clouded, the future- _

She takes a deep breath and then another. Walking the line between pushing them back and keeping herself open is a balancing act and not one she can do particularly well, at that. 

When she’s finally achieved some sort workable equilibrium, she starts wandering the space again - reaching out with her mind and her fingers for some sort of hint at what this place might hold. Birds flying in ever diverging and spiraling flocks. Trees with branches that fork and split and spiral and shift beneath her fingers. People, she’s sure, but she can’t determine the specifics. Isn’t sure she’s even meant to. And...stars - growing? And - yes - dying.

She feels it pulling at her properly now - a true black hole.

It’s just pictures except it’s never just pictures.

_ Follow child. _

And she does. She goes round and round the room, finds herself retracing her steps except...she’s not. Her path is the same and yet different. The room is solid and ancient and eternal, but yet it’s definitely different from when she first entered. She’s going in circles, but she’s making progress. Getting closer to what’s pulling at her.

When she finally stops, it’s not because the pull has lessened - rather the reverse; she’s pinned to where she stands - atop a figure that looks vaguely similar to the cross-legged one she’d seen in the shallow pool on Ach-To. Except, this time, there are lines branching out from behind it in something that looks vaguely like a mix between a tree and a spiderweb. She can only resist the pull so long before she finds herself sitting in the center of it in unintentional mimicry of the figure itself.

It’s like she’s been set on fire and a thousand meters underwater all at once and she can feel the universe’s heartbeat in her throat. Threads reach out and wrap around her in a mix between an embrace and a choke-hold - around her wrists, legs, hands, throat, face. There is no part of her left untouched. There is no part of her that does not reach out and touch.

She is here, but she is not here. She is now, but she is not now. She tugs and feels Existence shudder around her.

This is too much. No one should feel this much, be this much, have this much power.

She doesn’t care. She came here for answers and she will have them, even though she’s mostly forgotten the questions.

_ Show me. Show me. _

She doesn’t know what she needs to see, needs to know, but she does need, she  _ needs. _

_ Show you what, child? _

It does not wait for an answer. The ties that bind her to Everything tighten and cut like wires. She is filled with screaming that is more than screaming. Pain that is more than pain. More than a person, more than billions upon billions of people. 

Something is Wrong.

_ It needs to end. You know it needs to end. It would be better. _

Yes. Yes.

_ “It’s time to let old things die. Let it all die.” _

She can’t remember why that had seemed wrong.

_ You have a chance to fix this, here at the heart of all things. _

Yes. She has to. There is no one else.

_ Ask and you will receive. _

But what should she ask? The words...she’s not quite...they linger just out of reach.

An intrusive presence rears its head. “Rey, you can’t do this. This is power you don’t understand.

That’s never stopped her before.

A different voice. “You will have the chance to fix things, yes, but at the cost of everything, do you understand?”

She does. And she does hesitate. One last time, she reaches out, connected as she is. If it's to ever happen, it will be now.  _ “Ben. Ben, please. Be with me.” _

As always, there is nothing but silence.

The decision is made. She knows what she must ask of it.

“Take me to the broken place.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a collection of fic that all build off of the initial chapter. Some of them will build off of each other (i.e. if I start a story that builds on her going back to the throne room, I might continue it and label them "Throne Room 1," "Throne Room 2"), many will be independent branches with their own starting point ("Throne Room 1" and "Luke's Temple 1"), and some - if I get crazy - might even overlap with each other ("Throne Room & Luke's Temple 1"). Hopefully, it will all makes sense. I'll also put authors notes at the beginning of each chapter, which should make everything very clear. I'll also put specific warnings at the beginning of each chapter as appropriate.


End file.
